


What Remains

by thevalesofanduin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Might add more tags, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, because no, but no Bucky back in the freezer, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevalesofanduin/pseuds/thevalesofanduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Civil War, Tony had acted out of guilt. Did what he believed best based on emotions rather than logic deductions and it has resulted in him losing more than he even knew he had. The ex-Avengers, now wanted criminals, and his best friend crippled for life, what remains of Tony Stark is the same overwhelming guilt that brought this on in the first place.</p><p>But he is Tony Stark and if there is one thing he always does, it is fix his wrongs while he tries to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> So I have fallen into the Winteriron pit and wanted to write a fic. But I also wanted to write something compliant with Civil War which has resulted in a fic about guilt, redemption and Tony fighting with himself more than anything or anyone else. I'm very happy with how it's turning out and hope everyone will enjoy it!

_**GUILT – noun**  
[gilt]_

_1\. the fact or state of having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong, especially against moral or penal law;  
2\. a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc., whether real or imagined._

 

Two months, three weeks and five days after what the media has dubbed the superhero war, life has not gotten better.

In fact, Tony is certain it’s only getting worse.

 

The Avengers are a joke – for what can an AI turned human, a kid whose biggest worry is his homework and a tin man with trust issues truly do?

All others are gone, disappeared off of the face of the earth leaving Tony with a sense of betrayal in his heart that his head tells him is his own fault. He should just disband the Initiative, he thinks. And one night, after the news reports of a miracle save of over a dozen hostages which has Steve written all over it, he actually asks FRIDAY to compose a letter that officially disbands the Avengers Initiative. All it needs is Tony’s signature.

Which it will get once the UN requests them – Tony – to fight Steve – or anyone associated with the likes of him. Never again, Tony has vowed. No matter how betrayed he feels, no matter how little is left of his ability to trust.

He won’t fight Steve and be the cause of his injuries, his pain and the last nail into a coffin that holds something that once was trust.

 

Rhodey’s recovery is painfully slow and Tony’s heart bleeds for his friend. 

It makes him feel helpless and guilty and when he’s at Rhodey’s side as he helps the other learn to walk again he’s constantly plagued with thoughts of “what if I hadn’t…”

Rhodey sees it, Tony can tell by the look on his face whenever he looks at Tony. He doesn’t say anything, though. He’s known Tony long enough to realize it must get worse before it gets better. And Rhodey won’t be the cause of anything worse.

Not that Rhodey needs to.

Tony can do so much himself.

For whenever he closes his eyes to sleep he sees metal fingers, glistering in dim lamplight, slipping around a pale throat. He hears the pleading, the soft yet deafening crack of bones and then an airy breath. He feels all life leave his body, numbly watching as the other marches up to him. He wants to fight as he’s crowded against the tree, to kick and scream and get revenge. But that would mean he wishes to live. So he allows cold, metal fingers to slide around his neck and has to close his eyes, unable to watch the other’s vacant expression.

He always wakes, gasping for breath as if he was truly being chocked with grief in his heart, tears down his face and the name of his mother’s murderer on his lips.

It’s after another nightmare that Tony finds himself sitting in the middle of his bed, blankets wrapped around his legs as he allows himself to weep with only FRIDAY as a silent witness.

Fleetingly he thinks that now he understands why Steve hadn’t told him about the fact that the Winter Soldier killed his parents. Sees why the other would have wanted to spare him this grief in a righteous act of care and friendship. Finds himself almost _grateful_ for it.

It’s at this realization that things get worse.

\---

He starts spending more and more time in his lab. Less time with Rhodey which, he tells his friend, is because I’m working on something amazing for you.

He is.

But in-between the drinking it’s a slow process.

Drinking doesn’t make it stop hurting. But it does make him angry at Steve – at Barnes – rather than his more lucid feelings of guilt – because they’re both at fault, aren’t they? Wonderfully played out against each other so they’d let their emotions run free and ruin it all.

No, Tony would much rather be caught up in a drunken haze where he can vent and shout, cursing Captain and Soldier alike.

It all works wonderfully well – working, drinking and passing out into a hollow yet dreamless sleep.

Then one day he wakes up to find Natasha sitting in a chair with what seems like an army of empty bottles standing on the table next to her.

He glares at her for a moment, shoulders and chin up in a fake armor of confidence. 

She lifts one eyebrow at him and he deflates. There is no use, she knows him and his ways too well to realize when he’s not being honest.

“What do you want?” He’s surprised how raspy and tired his voice sounds.

Natasha is surprised too, although it’s only a flicker in her eyes, gone as quickly as it came. Instead of answering, though, she pulls up her nose. “You reek. Go shower while I have FRIDAY air this place out.” _Then we’ll talk._ She doesn’t say. She doesn’t need to. Her presence has already spoken for her.

And although Tony doesn’t want to talk, something warm and grateful settles in his heart at the thought that she cares.

 

She watches him like he’s a caged animal as he’s fluttering around the kitchen.

He needs to have something to do and as he is hungry he’s making a sandwich – how his fridge got filled he doesn’t know but he’s sure it’s Pepper he has to thank for it.

She waits until he’s done with his knife, talking only when Tony makes his way to the table with a plate of sandwiches.

“Cap is worried about you.” She speaks softly, slowly and carefully.

Tony sees it all, sees how she appears relaxed yet her shoulders are tense, sees also the warning in her eyes for him not to overreact as he repeats the words in his head in slow-motion.

_Cap is worried about you ___

__The plate clatters to the ground, porcelain, bread and other foods spreading over the wooden kitchen floor._ _

__“Well,” Tony manages to sidestep any debris, as he slides down into one of the barstools, his entire body shaky. His mind is in overdrive so much he can’t bring out a single thought and he’s certain he sounds absolutely devastated as he says: “If that was to get my attention, you have it.”_ _

__She leans her head to the side and gives him an offended glance. “There are a lot of other ways to get your attention.”_ _

__Tony narrows his eyes at her, suddenly frustrated because he has no clue what this is about. “Then what the fuck was that?”_ _

__“The message I was asked to deliver.” Natasha says, leans back in her chair seemingly carefree but as she knows him well he knows her too . It’s easy to see that she is tense. Like she expects him to blow up at her._ _

__Which he might._ _

__“By who?” He already knows. But he wants to know for certain – wants to buy himself some time so he can find out how exactly he feels about this._ _

__Natasha shakes her head with a frown. “Don’t play dumb, Stark. It doesn’t suit you.”_ _

__“How else do you expect me to react to that? Surely you didn’t expect to see me overjoyed that Wonderboy is worried and sends you to check on me.” Tony snaps, voice filled with confusion._ _

__He’s a mix of emotions, uncertain about what the hell he’s feeling about this. Anger and frustration for sure – because after all that happened how dare Cap think he still has the right to check on Tony?! But there is also a sense of relief, for things are perhaps not as bad between them as he’d thought. Not that one act of kindness will fix it all and make all events of the past months go away._ _

__They probably never will._ _

__But Tony still respects Cap, considers him something that could almost be considered a friend before it all went to shit. Besides, the fact he has been patching up the Shield already speaks volumes of what he has subconsciously hoped for._ _

__Yet as Natasha watches him silently with calculating yet fond eyes there is one urgent question Tony’s mind can’t help but voice._ _

__“But why?”_ _

__Natasha huffs. “That’s the same thing Cap is wondering right now.”_ _

__“What?” Tony frowns._ _

__For a moment Natasha looks taken aback before she frowns – although it feels more like an accusing glare if Tony is honest. “You don’t remember, do you?”_ _

__“Remember what?” Tony is surprised his voice comes out as soft and hesitant as it does because on the inside, he feels like screaming._ _

__“Check your phone.” Natasha sighs and when Tony reaches for the Stark phone on the kitchen counter, adds: “Not that one.”_ _

__Tony pauses, thinks about the phone she could mean and then itI clicks._ _

___Oh_ _ _

__He rushes to the lab – Natasha following at a much slower speed – and starts throwing stuff aside in an attempt to find the fossil of a phone Steve had sent him._ _

__When he finds it, he merely holds it for a few seconds. He’s afraid to check, to see what he’s done in drunk stupor._ _

__Then, long fingers curl over his shoulder._ _

__He startles at the touch and turns to Natasha beside him._ _

__She leans her head to the side with a small, encouraging smile before nodding at the phone. “Go on.”_ _

__“Didn’t know you cared.” Tony finds himself joking. A nervous defense._ _

__Normally._ _

__This time, it's not a joke and Natasha pulls back her hand before Tony has the chance to shrug it off._ _

__If there is a barely audible _I'm sorry too_ in the air, Natasha pretends she didn't just say it while Tony pretends he doesn't soak it up like a dehydrated plant._ _

__Natasha and him, at least they will be fine. Eventually._ _

__With a sigh and a heavy heart, he flips open the phone and goes to the sent messages – because he is pretty sure he would have remembered an actual call._ _

__There is a message there. Staring, shouting at Tony in its shortness, its simplicity although the meaning, the impact, is not at all short or simple._ _

___I’m sorry_ _ _

__He stares at the words, his hands shaky all of a sudden._ _

__He’s apologized. He sent a two word message to Steve, apologizing – what for something he doesn’t want to think about now._ _

__He’s Tony Stark. He doesn’t straight out apologize._ _

__“Fuck,” he mumbles and rakes a hand through his hair. “No wonder Cap is worried.”_ _

__There is silence for a few moments._ _

__Then, Natasha says: “Not just Rogers, Stark.”_ _

__It's the worry carefully placed in her voice, he thinks, that flares his sudden anger and frustration. Because they didn't worry before, so why now? Because he's apologized while drunk? Silence, betrayal and all that for a fucking apology?_ _

__"Well that's just marvelous." He snaps. "So what do we do now? Sit around the campfire and sing Kumbaya? Because that's more Cap's thing."_ _

__"Stark," Natasha's eyes are narrowed, focused sharply on Tony and her voice is solid, strong, a warning._ _

__But he rambles on, feeling so much relief of just letting the words, the anger and hurt out. "Or maybe not, because he seemed happy enough to beat me up together with his boyfriend. After, need I remind you, you chose their side."_ _

__An unhappy twitch of her lips and a quickly disguised flash of pain in her eyes are the only signs of hurt Natasha allows herself before she starts to argue: "I thought you understood - "_ _

__"That I got stabbed in the back by almost all the friends I had? Yes, I think that message was very clear." His chest is heaving, his hands clenched into fists and he doesn't feel tears prickling in his eyes._ _

__"And yet you're sorry." Natasha points out, crossing her arms in front of her chest almost as if to protect herself from any emotional onslaught that might escape Tony's mouth next._ _

__But there are no words left for Tony to speak. Nothing more to add to his rant and he feels exhausted now that he's let all of it out._ _

__Natasha's mumbled "you don't even know what you feel, do you?" is like a scream in the otherwise silent workshop. Especially the lingering sadness in it - a laugh, pity, anything else would've been better than to hear such a tone in Natasha's voice._ _

__Tony just lowers his eyes and stares at the floor, pretending he hasn't heard._ _

__\---_ _

__If, in the end, Natasha ends up staying neither of them mention it._ _

__If Tony spends his first night in a week not in his workshop, they pretend it isn't Natasha that has dragged him out of there with the lure of Wall-E and pepperoni pizza._ _

__If Natasha sits closer than strictly necessary and leans her head against Tony's shoulder about halfway through the movie, she doesn't say _forgive me_ and Tony doesn't whisper _I do_._ _

__And if, at the end of the movie, Tony is zoned-out, overtaken by his own thoughts, Natasha doesn't do anything – doesn't speak, doesn't move, just sits there and waits._ _

__Tony is happy enough to stay that way, to not talk about feelings that she thinks he's confused about._ _

__Because he can't say it, can't tell her that that's not the case for he doesn't want this - this emotion, this pain - out in the open._ _

__Clint, Wanda, Sam and Scott._ _

__Steve and Barnes._ _

__He knows very well what he feels._ _

__He feels their eyes on him in his sleep. Angry, disappointed, accusing._ _

__He sees Vision who, in a way, is not as content as before._ _

__He sees Rhodey…_ _

__He knows so fucking well what he feels because he’s felt it time and again._ _

__It’s wat started this whole thing._ _

__He still thinks he’s right, in a way. They could not have continued the way they were._ _

__He just never knew that getting what he wanted would mean he’d lose everything else._ _

__That being the good guy, doing the right thing, could make him so filled with guilt._ _


	2. Redemption

_**REDEMPTION – noun**  
[ri-demp-shuh n]_

_1\. an act of redeeming or atoning for a fault or mistake, or the state of being redeemed.  
2\. atonement for guilt._

 

Two months after the first UN meeting about the Sokovia Accords in Austria, the leaders of the world come together again. This time, however, it is in the UN Headquarters in New York and Tony has to admit that despite it being the HQ, it still feels like an infiltration.

New York is his city, his home and to have world leaders come together to discuss, negotiate and most likely sign the document that could seal Tony's future hurts.

It was probably intended that way.

A power play between Ross and himself.

But if there is any fight that Tony is almost disgustingly confident with that he can win it's a legal tug of war. Especially one that needs his signature to succeed.

It's laughable, really, that in the end the Sokovia Accords depend on Tony Stark's signature. Of course, the UN can push it through without Tony's consent. He is an individual, after all. But he is also one of the most powerful individuals on earth. Having him as one of the superheroes not signing the accords would mean he will have to go to prison. And no-one, not even the UN, wants to suffer the consequences of even thinking about sending Tony Stark to prison.

\---

In the past two weeks a lot has changed for Tony. He has gone from pathetically drinking away his guilt to using it to instead fix some of the damage he has done on his way to righteousness.

He has been yelled at and hugged by Pepper, punched and then hugged by Rhodey and he has been called an idiot by both of them more times than he cares to remember. He has banned alcohol from the Stark Tower after Pepper cried over all the empty bottles and has - albeit awkwardly - shared his feelings of guilt with Rhodey who then proceeded to scold him for being an idiot.

He has even rekindled with Natasha and they have silently agreed that after one awkward and short conversation about emotions, the hatchet is buried and both their actions forgiven.

It is thus that one month and three weeks after the "superhero war" Tony has regained a sense of self again. And it is in this moment of clarity that he finds the way to rid himself of his guilt.

For if there is one thing Tony would desperately live without, it's guilt.

And thus he starts to plan. To talk to Rhodey and Pepper, to Natasha and to so many lawyers he could've built an army.

And it is after meticulous planning - of a week, but he is a genius so a week is more time than he could wish for - that Tony dresses in the morning of the meeting.

He puts on his best suit, drives his best car and when he arrives at the United Nations Plaza he puts on his best smile.

It's show time.

\---

"Ladies, Gentlemen I welcome you to the beautiful city of New York. Look out the window, appreciate the beauty of it on this gorgeous day." Tony allows his eyes to slowly slide over the crowd of kings, queens and ministers. It's by far the biggest crowd he's ever spoken to but it is the most important one. Which is why he has prepared a speech that, for once, he'll stick to.

As most have obediently let their eyes roam over the view from the 39th floor, Tony continues. "And be reminded of the fact, that without the great efforts of the Avengers, New York would not exist anymore on this day."

The silence that follows is deafening, the widened eyes of many of his audience fixated on him and he catches sight of many awkward glances and uncomfortable hand gestures.

Perfect.

"Today is a step into a new direction. A day where laws will be changed and a safer, more controllable future will be decided." His voice is loud, confident and many nod in satisfaction at his words. Then he lifts the stack of papers labeled Sokovia Accords into the air. "But not with this."

He lets his eyes slide over the room. From Ross's enraged face to Coulson's surprised one before finally he finds Natasha in the crowd, an happy and indulgent - albeit tiny - smirk on her lips.

She gives him a nod, an encouragement he hardly needs but is appreciated nonetheless.

"Allow me to present to you a fairer, more realistic way of tackling the current superhero problem."

\---

One and a half hour later Tony strides out of the conference room, thick folder with - now UN approved - revised Sokovia Accords under his arm and a satisfied smile on his lips.

He waves at the reporters with a grin but instead of going over to answer their questions, keeps walking. He will give Ross the honors to explain why the UN almost unanimously has rejected the previous version of the Sokovia Accords only to agree on the new version Tony presented.

He hears the tell-tale clicking of high heels against the floor and turns to greet Natasha with open arms.

"That went well." She steps around his arms - no huggy pictures for the press, then - and the satisfied smirk suits her so very well. 

Tony laughs. "Of course it did. Did you ever doubt me?"

Natasha rolls her eyes fondly but doesn't deny the statement. Crowds are Tony's specialty after all.

\--- 

A week later, Tony - not the Avengers, just Tony - is summoned by official UN orders to assist a Ukrainian squad of Ground Forces with taking down a medium sized HYDRA base.

He goes, all the way to Europe to help in this seemingly small operation that doesn't necessarily need Iron Man. It feels like a trap, a set-up but after charming the UN into agreeing with the new Accords, he can hardly decline.

Half an hour in, thirty-seven hostages taken and base almost secured, he runs into what he realizes is his reason for being there.

Because there, right in front of Tony is Captain America rummaging through a filing cabinet.

Or no, not Captain America. The muscular body is the same, the blond mop of hair painfully familiar but there's no patriotic suit. No shield.

This is Steve Rogers.

Steve, who turns upon hearing footsteps and whose blue eyes widen upon seeing the Iron Man suit.

Steve, who looks like he hasn't slept in weeks and who seems torn between relief and anger at seeing Tony.

Steve, whose eyes slide around the room - from the doorway to the screens showing security footage in the corner - before they settle on Tony with a glare. "Why are you here." There's no real anger in Steve's demand, just a bone-deep tiredness and defeat that makes Tony cringe.

Steve should not sound like that.

"I wasn't sure," he says and lets the face-mask of the Iron Man suit down so he can look Steve in the eyes. "But now that you're here, I'm fairly certain I know why Ross wanted me on this mission."

Steve frowns. "Just you."

"And you, apparently." Tony waves a hand into Steve's direction, attempts to walk towards him when he's stopped by the barrel of a gun against his helmet.

"Move and I will blow your brains out."

"Nice to see you too, Barnes." Tony drawls.

"Why are you here?" Barnes demands, stepping in front of Tony almost as if he's a barrier between Steve and him.

And, looking at the man in front of him, Tony realizes this is James Barnes. This is not the Winter Soldier from the footage he's studied time and time again. This is not the lost man, with anger and confusion in his eyes, that tried to kill Tony. This is James Bucky Barnes doing what he's always done. Protecting Steve.

For a moment, Tony sees what Steve sees - has always seen - when looking at the man and it drowns out his subconscious cries of _murderer_.

He takes a breath before looking Barnes dead in the eye and arguing: "I can ask you the same." Then, before Barnes or Steve can reply, he adds: "But to help you out, I am here because the UN requested my assistance on this laughably easy mission."

"They knew we were going to be here." Steve breathes from behind Barnes.

"Yes, which says a lot about your subtlety of the past few weeks but that's another discussion altogether." Tony points out and has to resist folding his hands in front of his chest.

"Excuse me?" Barnes demands with a dark frown.

Tony huffs. "I did not change the Accords just to have the two of you set yourselves up."

For a moment there's silence in the room - only the footsteps in the distance which means that the rest of Tony's _team_ is getting closer.

Barnes stares at Tony in what seems shock at the admission. He opens his mouth, closes it and then eventually grunts: "And yet you let yourself be caught like this."

Tony, despite himself - despite the situation and most definitely regardless of who he has in front of him - chirps: "Hook, line and sinker baby."

Barnes looks like he thinks Tony has completely lost it, raising an eyebrow at Tony with narrowed eyes like he almost expects something to happen at those words - like they're a code for ‘attack now’!

Behind Barnes, Steve sighs and Tony has had enough people sighing at his antics over the years that he recognizes the fondness in the sound.

Barnes frowns, obviously having picked up on Steve’s tone as well and for a moment he watches Tony thoughtfully – yet not with his guard down, the gun still pointed straight at Tony’s head.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps draw closer and closer.

Before he quite realizes what’s going on, Tony finds himself being turned around by an incredibly strong arm, pushed to the ground until he’s on his knees.

“Buck!” Steve cries and Tony can’t pinpoint whether he’s worried or angry – and who with, exactly.

“Shut up punk, we need some leverage.” Barnes grunts.

Tony, meanwhile, feels like doing Barnes a favor by not mentioning the fact that if he didn’t want to be their leverage, he’d just blast the gun away.

Not that he has the chance as a squad comes streaming into the room, guns drawn and ready to shoot.

“Don’t shoot,” is the first thing out of Tony’s mouth and he’s not certain if he’s talking to the soldiers behind or the soldiers in front of him.

The Sergeant that steps forward smirks. “We don’t need to if you engage, Stark.”

Tony doesn’t need to see Steve or Barnes to know they’re tense and ready to fight.

But Tony has made a vow – albeit a silent one – and if he is to be the first one to break the Sokovia Accords then so be it.

"No."

The Sergeant frowns. "Stark, these are enemies of the United Nations. Either you help us bring them in to stand trial or we consider you their ally."

Tony huffs. "I wrote the new Sokovia Accords, do you really think you need to remind me?"

There’s a tense silence in the room, the soldiers in front of Tony seem to be losing their focus while the two men at his back get tenser as the seconds tick by.

Meanwhile the Sergeant looks downright pissed off as he demands: "Then what are you doing, Stark?"

Tony allows himself a deep breath – he shouldn’t be nervous for saying the truth but he is, knowing just how much it will change. Then, loud and clear and without a trace of hesitation he states: "I will not fight Steve Rogers or James Barnes. So take me in, drag me to court. I'd love to defend myself."

For a moment, nothing but stunned silence fills the room.

Then, he's shoved face forward to the ground by a harsh hand against his back. There's mumbling in Russian, a clash and smoke fills the room.

When the air in the room clears, both Steve and Barnes are gone.

Tony is taken into custody without a second of hesitation.

\---

They put him in an isolated cell.

It's not so horrible, just very quiet and Tony does a lot more thinking than is good for him.

Panic - because what if the trial goes wrong? - and guilt - this is what he put the others through only they didn't have a good outlook on their trials at all. He's also - tried to - stopped sleeping. The small room, the lack of windows and fresh air... It's unsurprising that when Tony sleeps he dreams of Afghanistan.

When he's finally let out of jail - with Pepper waiting for him with a relieved smile - he's a broken man.

She hugs him and lets him cling to her, lets him smell her perfume and hold her for a few seconds too long to make sure she's real.

When they leave, Pepper is her tall and confident self while Tony trails two steps behind her. They pass by Ross on their way out and Pepper's sharp tongue wipes the smirk right off of his face. "Do not for a moment think you've won."

"It is not about winning, Miss Potts. It's about the law."

Pepper whirls around on her nude heels and is in Ross' face within a second, face determined and voice dripping venom. "Then watch as we will use the law in our advantage in every single way possible." She then turns and stalks out of the reception area to the front door, Tony following behind with the indulgent smile he always gets on his face when Pepper is being her badass self. "And just so you know, Ross, this is about winning so prepare to lose."

\---

Outside, on the curb - with no paparazzi around which is odd but Tony isn't going to complain - he leans his head against Pepper's shoulder. Lovely Pepper who, along with Rhodey, has always been there for him.

"I love you." It's not hard to say the words - not to Pepper and also not in the platonic way they're meant.

Pepper seems shocked for a moment before raising a hand and patting Tony on the head - almost like a little kid. "Love you too, Tony."

They would've never said the words when they were still together. But now that they're separated things are better like they've always known that their love is better off not being romantic.

A car pulls up and Pepper ushers Tony into the backseat while getting into the passengers' seat in the front herself.

In the back, Rhodey is waiting and Tony is almost immediately pulled into a bear-hug of epic proportion.

Rhodey doesn't say anything, presses Tony against his chest and does his best to shield his friend from the rest of the world as Tony does his best to not let the tears out.

It's like Afghanistan all over again.

The sense of being locked up - not necessarily as life-threatening but the memories of Afghanistan he'd pushed away still pour out. The way Tony trembles, clings to Rhodey like he's the only line between himself and sanity.

Only there is no sun beating down on them, no sand crawling everywhere and Tony is not in excruciating pain.

It's not Afghanistan and when his mind finally catches up with that fact the car is already moving.

"Thanks buddy," he mumbles against Rhodey's chest.

"Always, Tones." Rhodey pats the back of Tony's head - in quite the same way as Pepper had.

When Tony eventually sits back in his own seat and fastens his seatbelt he catches sight of a familiar red-head behind the steering-wheel.

He smirks. "When did I promote you to be my personal driver?"

Natasha just glances at him through the rear-view mirror, not saying anything. And if she looks just a tad bit relieved to see Tony doing okay, well, who is Tony to point that out?

\--- 

A week later, Tony's trial begins with much fanfare and media attention.

Tony breezes through, smiling and waving and ignores the reporters all the way from his car to the door of the court room. However, just as he is about to enter he hears one of the reporters shout: "Mister Stark, what exactly is it that you hope to achieve today?"

Tony turns, all smiles and casual attitude gone as he says: "For all charges to be dropped against all ex-Avengers and the Winter Soldier."

The sound of pure chaos as reporters try to out-shout each other with questions follows him all the way to his seat.

For the next three hours Tony's legal team produces reason upon reason, piece of evidence upon piece of evidence, why exactly Tony's request of dropping the charges against the ex-Avengers and the Winter Soldier is justified.

From the fact that the man responsible for the bombing at the UN meeting was not the Winter Soldier to the Winter Soldier and Captain America disabling the threat of the possible danger of five other HYDRA super soldiers being out there. From all the things the ex-Avengers have done to save people to the fact that being imprisoned and interrogated might be accountability but it is definitely not gratitude for all of their suffering and efforts.

And when he is called to the stand to testify, he speaks honestly. He does not hesitate, he does not waver as he answers all questions asked. And when the prosecutor asks him if he doesn't want to hold the man who murdered his parents accountable for it, he only needs one moment to take a deep breath and calm himself down before he says: "Accountability is one thing. A thing you all know I wholeheartedly agree with. Yet you need to ask yourself, can you hold a man accountable for things he was not in control of? We send the mentally ill to therapy, not to prison. Why would this case be any different?"

And when after his speech no-one - not the prosecutors, not the judge and not even a single person in the audience - speaks, Tony counts it as a victory.

It is a victory, in the end.

The ex-Avengers, the Winter Soldier, it seems Tony and his team have shown enough evidence to clear all charges against them. If Tony whoops slightly when the judge presents that verdict, he doesn't quite care.

Nor does he care about the charges against himself. A very hefty fine and three months house-arrest.

For a billionaire living in the biggest building in New York, it's a complete and utter joke.

\---

A few days later, when Tony is working in his workshop with AC/DC playing and a cup of coffee almost permanently next to him, the phone Steve gave him beeps.

Heart in his throat and hands slightly unsteady from nerves, Tony checks the message.

When he reads the _thank you_ , a sigh of relief passes his lips and he can't help but think that this must be what redemption feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's that, Tony working himself through the consequences of Civil War in his own way... My baby needs a hug!
> 
> Let me know what you think and feel free to come visit me on [Tumblr](http://thevalesofanduin.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, so sorry for the wait! Life suddenly got very busy and writing had to wait for a bit... But here's a new chapter and I hope you like it!
> 
> Now I'm off for a few days, going to the middle-of-nowhere in France so let's see if I can whip something up during 5 days of no internet to distract me!

_**FORGIVENESS – noun**  
[fer-giv-nis]_

_1\. act of forgiving; state of being forgiven.  
2\. disposition or willingness to forgive._

Tony thought that after the trial he would sleep easier.

He thought that speaking of Barnes out loud in court would chase away the nightmares.

But all it has done is clear his conscious while he still dreams of Barnes killing his mother. Dreams of looking through a hole in space to see an army ready to attack. Dreams of a world where in his desperation to save it, he has destroyed it. It’s all destruction and death and loneliness.

That night isn’t any different and Tony wakes drenched in cold sweat, sheets tangled around his feet and his heart beating wildly in his chest.

He takes a shuddering breath, sits up and that’s when he sees the gleam of a pair of eyes and the shadowy form of a figure in his room. He gives a high-pitched shriek and flails for a moment – almost falling out of his bed as a result – before he can muster: “FRIDAY, lights!”

He’s about to call for a gauntlet too when in the dim light he sees Natasha perched on one of the reading chairs he keeps in his bedroom. She’s wearing sweats and a loose T-shirt and is watching him with worried eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He demands, not at all comfortable with the fact she just witnessed him waking up from a nightmare – even though part of him is so, so relieved at seeing her sit there after he just dreamt of her death.

“I heard you scream.” Natasha mumbles. 

Tony can't help but frown, pointing out: "I'm sure it's not the first time you heard me do that since you moved in."

Natasha shakes her head and looks at her hands for a moment, almost insecure. Then she looks at Tony with soft and slightly guilty eyes. "It's the first time you catch me, though."

Tony's eyes widen at the admission. Natasha, unfazed Natasha, comes to check on him after his nightmares.

"It calms you down if I stroke your hair." She continues, a small smile on her lips that's fond yet sad at the same time. "After everything... It's the least I can do." 

Tony doesn't know what to say. Just sits on the bed and looks at Natasha as if he's seeing her for the first time.

At that expression, all softness disappears from Natasha's face and she looks down, with a tone that shows she's angry mainly at herself she asks: "It’s unfair, isn’t it? That no-one ever sees how good and self-sacrificing you are.” She raises big, guilty eyes at Tony that makes Tony's heart ache for her because he knows so well what she feels. “Not even us.”

Those three words are the ones that knock the air out of Tony. He wonders if he even heard her correctly but Natasha looks so determined that he knows he did.

He takes an unsteady breath, weaves a finger through his hair and decides that at fuck-o'clock after a nightmare this is all too much of an emotional revelation.

“I’m not sure now is the time for this conversation.” He mutters.

Natasha's lips curve up into a barely-there smile as she offers: “You’ll only have to listen.”

Tony huffs and shakes his head. “To hear that self-sacrificing always bites me in the ass? I see the end of the world and create Ultron. I want to have accountability and look at what happened.”

“And look at what you’ve done after.”

Natasha gives him a sad look and stands up from her seat, gracefully – and how is that possible in sweats – making her way over to the bed. She sits on the edge of the mattress, thigh pressed against Tony’s and she pulls him close, his head against her chest and her long fingers carding through his tousled hair.

Tony is surprised at the action, freezes for a moment before he realizes he doesn't actually mind that much. He closes his eyes and tells himself to accept the comfort Natasha's hug offers because with her, he'll never know when or if he'll ever receive it again. 

When she speaks again, Natasha leans a cheek against the top of his head. “You see the world end and want to save it. You see a country go down and you want to make sure it never happens again. Your friends betray you and you go ahead and help them anyway…” Here Natasha pauses, her grip on Tony tightening for a fraction of a second. “Your intentions and ideas come from the most selfless and caring place even though no-one sees it. Even we didn’t see it.” Her voice is a bare whisper at the last words.

Tony takes deep breath that stutters and hitches and when he tells her "it's okay” his voice croaks. Because he doesn't deal well with being told he’s a nice guy. The good person. If he doesn't see it in himself, how can someone else see it?

“It’s really not. Anything that gives you nightmares is not okay." Natasha states, her tone firm and not up for any discussion.

Tony swallows, turns in Natasha's grip so her hands fall away from him. He almost misses the embrace. "I don’t…” He starts but is interrupted by Natasha.

She shakes her head with a grim expression. “So you don’t have nightmares about being left alone? No-one to rely on? It’s because your brain might have forgiven us but your heart hasn’t. We will work have to work hard to obtain it.”

“We?” It comes out harsher than Tony intended but he doesn’t quite care.

Natasha gives him a small smile.

“Forgiveness works both ways.” Tony mutters. Because the fact he wants to be forgiven doesn’t mean he actually will be.

“And you’ve done enough, Tony.” Natasha says and she sounds so convinced of herself. “So much more than enough. More than we deserve.”

Tony just stares at the wall thinking that if this is more than enough, than what will it take for him to finally feel at peace with himself again.

Natasha’s soft whispers of “I’m sorry” and “we’ll fix this” help a little bit, though.

\--- 

When the next day he gets a call from Clint, Tony is convinced it’s Natasha that has put him up to it.

For a moment he sits frozen, breakfast cereal forgotten on the table in front of him and he only realizes he’s clenching his hand because the coffee in his cup is starting to burn his skin.

He pulls away his hand and stares at his phone, heart in his throat.

He lets it ring and ring until it jumps to voicemail.

It’s not exactly intentional, it’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to Clint. But considering what was said the last time they spoke he’s anxious and apprehensive to hear what Clint has to say.

So five minutes after Clint called – coffee downed and cereal forgotten – Tony logs onto his voicemail and plays the message.

“Hi Tony. Nat already said you probably wouldn’t pick up your phone. Not that I blame you, I probably wouldn’t want to talk to the asshole who chewed me out either…” Clint trails off his nervous chatter.

Tony takes a deep breath – the first it seems after he started the message – and it’s full of relief.

On the voicemail, Clint sighs harshly. “Fuck, I’m sorry I said all of that man. The accords were shit but the idea itself wasn’t too bad. Laura was so mad, too. Yelled at me for a full half hour about how I went and got myself locked up. And that’s it, right? I… we blamed you for getting us locked in there but if we’d all just calmed our tits for a moment we wouldn’t even have been there. And I hate what I said. Fuck, I keep thinking about how I was the one shooting you in the back and not the other way around. Because you were coming from a good place it’s just that the execution was shit. So, uhm… I know stuff isn’t ok between us. But I’ve got a little boy here that I would love you to meet.” 

There’s a pause, a woman’s voice on the other end of the line and Clint arguing something along the lines of ‘you can tell him yourself’ but it’s with fondness that the ex-Avenger continues babbling into the phone again. “And a Sokovian who would like to talk to you as well. In a good way, Stark! Don’t get it into your head we hate you now. Because we really don’t. You’re a good man and definitely a better man than everyone realizes. And a bit of an asshole which I mean in the most friendliest way. But yea, you know where to reach me so let me know if you want to come by."

Tony lets the words sink in. The monologue of heartfelt words and apologies. And Clint knows they're not okay, that it will take a very long time for them to be okay again but he's willing to work for it. Willing to invite Tony over despite how awkward that will be. 

It makes Tony smile, happy and relieved. He'd thought the ex-Avengers had left him. Alone in a tower full of memories and regrets. But now it seems he's not the only one with regrets. Not the only one who feels guilt. That throughout it all he wasn't the only one at fault.

It's such a relief that he's dialing Clint's number before he has the time to change his mind. 

"Tony?" Clint sounds hesitant as he picks up the phone.

Tony isn't sure if he is amused or touched by that, just knows that an insecure Clint is something rare. He decides that the better reaction would be amusement, not just because he deals a lot better with that than with emotions. "Come by? Did you forget I'm on house-arrest birdbrain?" 

There is a short pause and then Clint chuckles, awkward and relieved but happy. "Okay yes I totally forgot about that. Which doesn't mean I'm not grateful. You rocking it in court was... A lot. Thank you probably doesn't cover it." Clint's voice is heavy with emotion.

Tony swallows, fidgeting with a loose thread on his shirt. Gratefulness always makes him nervous. "It's okay." He mumbles in reply.

"Okay?" Clint's voice goes up, louder which it always does when he feels he needs to argue his case. "Dude what you did was... Laura cried when they announced they'd drop the charges. That's huge."

"What, your wife crying?" Tony jokes, unable to help himself.

Clint sighs and Tony can imagine him rolling his eyes. “Downplay it all you want, Stark. It’s not going to stop me from apologizing for all the shit I said.”

Tony’s lip twitches into something that feels a lot like an awkward smile although it could also be a grimace. “We all said shit, Barton.”

“It’s an apology I’m giving, Tony. Just say thank-you.” Clint snorts.

Tony huffs yet he can’t help but smile. The apology, even though he’ll never admit it out loud, is something he’s silently and perhaps even subconsciously been waiting for. Hearing it first from Natasha and now from Clint, it’s easing something inside of him. 

It feels good.

“Thank you,” he means it as a joke but it comes out more earnest and heart-felt than that. 

Clint doesn’t say anything, but Tony can imagine him smiling.

\---

The backlash of what Tony has done, has achieved, is insane.

As is always the case when it seems to come to Tony, the press takes the facts and works with them. Creates stories of their own that are bigger fiction than a door to Narnia could ever hope to be.

And the general public gobbles it like the naïve, thrill-seeking lot they are.

It only takes the media a week to produce headlines that, amongst the few praising ones, are full of wariness.

_How Tony Stark has the whole world wrapped around his little finger_

_Stark’s hidden agenda_

The stock prices of Stark Industries drop, some of the members of the Board of Directors are bringing up the question of Tony’s ‘right to rule’ again and Pepper is the spitting image of efficiency as she discusses and negotiates with both board members and their PR department alike.

It’s nothing new, business as usual.

But the one that makes Tony want to puke, makes him want to hide away from the world and never show his face again. 

He sees it one morning as he’s having breakfast, swiping through the news headlines on his StarkPad.

_Merchant of Death responsible for disappearance Captain America?_

A cold dread fills him, finds its way through his body and he drops the pad onto the breakfast bar with a soft thud.

He stares at it for a few silent moments, feeling almost betrayed and wondering why he saves the world all the time if this is all the thanks he gets.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath he pushes himself away from the table, standing up. He takes his breakfast, dumps it straight into the trashcan and puts away his dishes. He then walks out of the kitchen numbly, leaving the Starkpad on the bar without reading the article.

He doesn’t need to read it to know it’s a blatant lie.

That doesn’t mean it hurts any less.  
\---

Two days after the appearance of the headline, Tony hasn't left his workshop. He's creating things that aren't really needed, fixes things that don't need fixing and has three new designs for Iron Man suits he knows he's never going to make. 

Pepper has visited with lunch and Rhodey with dinner. Both stay a while, keeping Tony company as he works, talk about things that aren't the news and don't mention anything about the paint tests Tony is having FRIDAY run for red and blue paint that doesn't wear off. 

In a way they're enabling him to ignore the facts. To hide and not deal with things. But they know what he's like. Know that this is his way of dealing and they're the best friends he could wish for.

An hour after Rhodey leaves that day he gets a call from Natasha. 

"Hello?" Were it anyone else calling he wouldn't have picked up. But this is Natasha so he knows she won't start talking to him about emotions. She dislikes those kind of conversations as much as he does.

"You should watch the news." Is all she says.

Incredibly curious and never one to ignore Natasha, Tony asks FRIDAY to turn on the eight o'clock news. He keeps it as background noise, not interested in the current political environment and certain it's not what he's supposed to watch anyway.

"After weeks of radio silence, it seems that Captain America has resurfaced." The news anchor announces.

Tony almost drops his soldering iron in shock. Steve has reappeared? And how on earth does the news channel know about it before Tony does? Natasha knew, he's certain of that. Did Steve contact her? Does she know what is about to happen? 

He's missed the full introduction and his heart is beating wildly in his chest while his mouth is so dry it could be the Sahara as the news anchor announces: "So let's hear Captain America's statement about the current Superhero environment."

Tony wants to close his eyes and cover his ears, almost afraid to hear what Steve has to say - wants to announce on national TV. But he can't tear his eyes away from the screen even if he wanted to. So it's with both dread and hope in his heart that he watches the studio make place for a video of Steve. 

It's average quality to say the least and the lighting is terribly as he sits with his back to a window – sun shining brightly outside. It’s pleasant enough, though, with tacky white lacey curtains and a sand colored wall. But there’s nothing pleasant or sunny about Steve’s expression.

He looks livid.

Tony subconsciously clenches his hands into fists, shoulders strung tight from nerves and apprehension.

On screen, Steve takes a deep breath before starting a monologue in an angry tone and stern eyes - full Captain-mode now directed at the people of the United States. “I come from a time where there was no internet. No news outlet in the same way we have it now. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d like to go back to that." Steve shakes his head. "The internet is a wonderful thing and I am amazed it exists. But it has enabled the world to know everything about everyone at any time and it is not showing a pretty side of all of us. A man can’t even go on a trip anymore nowadays without the rest of the world accusing someone else about abducting him.”

During Steve's silence, Tony is certain he has stopped breathing, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time at Steve for addressing this issue nation-wide.

On screen though, there’s a storm brewing in Steve's eyes, his hands clenched and it is with sadness and suppressed anger that his voice shakes when he speaks again. “I might as well say it, right? The whole world seems to know what’s happened. I’ve seen pictures, videos and live-Tweets about a fight which the general public has decided needs a fucking nickname." He spats the words with obvious disgust. "A superhero war where everyone has decided Tony is the villain and I’m the martyr saving my friend." Lowered eyes, lips pulled into a tight line it's obvious to see that Steve disagrees.

It warms Tony's heart and fills his eyes with tears. 

But Steve is far from done talking and his voice is laced with regret as he continues. "But I was just saving my friend while Tony was looking out for all of us. He did the right thing while I disregarded logic. I went in without thinking and ended up breaking the law. Just because that was to rescue a friend doesn’t mean I am the good guy." 

Steve's posture changes, gets less tense and there's sadness in his eyes as he speaks. "I have been disrespectful, ungrateful and I tried to help one friend but threw aside the other. I can only hope that he can forgive me.”

It's obvious from the words that the message is meant for Tony to hear.

And oh, he's heard.

In the background, Steve keeps talking. Something about his trip and how the rest of the world should keep their noses out of his personal business.

But Tony doesn’t hear anything. He just sits on his stool at the workbench and cries. 

\---

In the end, it’s Dummy that throws a box of tissues at Tony and Butterfingers that goes to retrieve a pack of cookies from the small kitchen-area in the workshop, dropping it twice before putting it on the table in front of Tony. 

Tony laughs through his tears, scolding his bots for being clumsy in the same fond way he always addresses them. It’s as close to saying _you are the only children I’ll ever have_ that Tony will ever be but the bots whir happily nonetheless with an unconditional love for their creator. It still baffles Tony how he ended up with these bots, his incredible handmade family that he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

It is surrounded by them that he comes to terms with the fact that he’s not the only one who is sorry. He is not the only one who came out of this fight feeling like the bad guy, feeling wrong and wishing he’d made a different call.

It’s a good feeling, knowing that somehow he is less alone.

Then, the next day, Steve calls. 

Tony is man enough to admit he is nervous when he picks up but finds out that Steve is feeling exactly the same and it turns into quite the awkward affair.

They go from “how have you been?” to awkward silences to Steve whispering “I’m sorry” and Tony replying with “me too”. It’s Steve’s desperate voice thanking Tony, admitting he’s been an idiot – an asshole even – and that the ability to buy himself a plane ticket back into the US is more than he thinks he deserves. It’s mainly Steve talking, throwing more apologetic words and pleas for forgiveness to Tony than he can take. So in the end, Tony mutters that it’s okay and just like Natasha, Steve replies that “it’s really not”. At the end of the conversation, Steve says they should stay in touch and Tony nods along even though he doesn’t believe they actually will.

Then, a few days later, Steve calls again.

And again.

And again.

Two weeks later – after both earnest and joking conversations, after Tony has learned that Steve and his two buddies are making a Eurotrip in a fucking VW Beetle – when Steve says “talk to you soon” Tony believes him.

 

The next day Steve calls to announce that he’s booked a flight to New York.

“W-what… when? I mean –” For a moment Tony is dumbfound, stuttering around his thoughts that are a hysterical combination of elated and terrified.

Steve is kind enough to interrupt him. “Sam needs to go back to the Department of Veteran Affairs at some point so we decided it’s time to come back.”

“I can arrange a jet.” Tony offers, unable to stop himself because offering things and chattering – no matter the words – always seem to ease his nerves. And as Steve’s announcement has caught him off-guard, well there’s a lot of nerves to be settled. “And where are you going to live? I own property in Brooklyn.”

“Tony, no.” Steve interrupts and his voice is a combination of fond and firm. “You’ve done enough.”

“Just…” Tony starts, wanting to explain or something of the kind. But after a second he gives up with a sigh and instead just asks: “ Can I pick you up from the airport?”

“Of course, Tony. That would be great.” Steve’s voice is relieved, light and Tony can imagine the soft smile on his face.

And when Tony then says “Please tell me you’re flying Business, though,” Steve just laughs and lets Tony upgrade all three of them from Economy to Business.

\---

When two days later Steve arrives from the over-night flight from Prague, looking absolutely shattered – an awful combination of exhausted, relieved and guilty, really – Tony feels that perhaps he can finally forgive himself.


	4. Kindred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay everyone! Life got busy and it took a lot longer to write this than I expected!
> 
> Thanks for everyone whose commented and left kudos and apologies if I haven't responded to you <3 Hope this chapter is worth the wait, though!

__**KINDRED – adjective**  
[kin-drid]  
1\. having the same belief, attitude, or feeling  
2\. similar in kind; related. 

It’s an ironically nice day with a clear blue sky, a small breeze and a temperature that allows for jeans and a shirt without being either too cold or too warm. The grass is starting to turn a slightly yellow hue as New York hasn’t seen rain for a while and it makes a soft crunch underneath the step of Tony’s sneakers.

He passes by the map at the entrance gate and walks over the gravel path up the small hill. He follows the road for a few winding curves before stepping off it onto the grass, taking another few steps before coming to a stop.

He shoves his hands into his pockets with a wistful smile on his face that only serves to make the shimmer in his eyes sadder.

“Hi Jarvis.” He greets the headstone eventually.

There is no reply as the sun basks down onto Tony’s hunched figure but in his head he can see an familiar face smiling.

He never really visited that often. But now that “aunt” Peggy passed away he’s lost the last of his chosen family – the part he didn’t build himself – he comes more often.

It’s usually stories about other people Tony shares rather than things that happened in his own life. Today is about something he thinks Jarvis would be able to relate to, might even find it hilarious in his proper Jarvis-way. “You’ll never guess who are living in a flat in Brooklyn now. Dad would have a heart-attack if he were still around.”

 

He doesn’t mean to walk the long way around to get back to the entrance, but his feet carry him that direction regardless.

By graves he’s seen many times, people who he never knew but whose names look familiar nonetheless.

He rounds a corner, turning into a lane lined with small cobblestones, the graves all neat and well-kept with the branches of the oak trees hanging low, the sun filtering beautifully through bright green leaves. He raises his eyes despite himself – always so sadly hopeful, as if the dead could come back to life.

What he sees, however…

He gasps, feels as if his throat is being choked and his heart is being squeezed empty. His hands shake, tears burn in his eyes and a ridiculous sob finds its way past his lips as he stumbles back. 

Of course he trips.

Catches his foot against a branch laying around, goes down with an undignified oomph.

That catches the attention of the man in front of him, who turns dangerously quick, hand reaching for something behind him – and seeing who it is, Tony is certain it’s a gun.

For breathless seconds they stare at each other. Iron Man and Winter Soldier, Tony Stark and James Buchanan Barnes. Caught unaware, off-guard and vulnerable. In that moment, they are more alike than they have ever been. Recognizing fear, hesitation and guilt easily in the eyes of another.

Tony is the first to get his body to move again, attempting to stand up and feeling like an inelegant elephant in the progress. The whole time, however, he keeps his eyes on Barnes, careful and calculating.

He knows he shouldn’t, but standing in front of this man makes him feel wary. It’s true that he’s forgiven Barnes, that he _knows_ the other won’t hurt him now that all fighting is behind them and Barnes is back in New York. But this is his parents’ grave and if he wasn’t so stunned he’d be screaming _what the fuck are you doing here?_

Barnes, however, seems to come out of his stupor before Tony and he hunches his shoulders guiltily while looking down, avoiding Tony’s eyes as he mutters: “I can leave if you want me to.”

There’s a yes on Tony’s tongue because seriously, Barnes should _not_ be here.

But it’s the first time he’s seen the man since he returned to the States – since Ukraine, since the gun against his head he sometimes still feels even though it’s illogical – and part of him doesn’t want to start off with demanding the man to get out of his sight. 

So before he realizes quite what he’s doing, a “you’re here already anyway,” is rolling off of his tongue as he tries to casually saunter over to his parents grave.

He stops in front of the headstone, turning towards it and they stand next to each other in front of Howard and Maria’s grave, not touching and shoulders tense as bowstrings.

Barnes doesn’t say anything and one sideward glance at the man confirms that he’s considering leaving – or rather, running off – despite Tony’s words.

Meanwhile, Tony is doing his very best to come up with something – anything – to do or say that will not ultimately damage any sort of communication that’ll ever occur between them. But through the thought of _why, why, why!?_ he can’t think of anything. So he blurts: “So, what exactly did you come to find at the graves of the people you killed?”

Barnes doesn’t flinch, like he’s expected the question. He merely heaves a heavy sigh as he admits: “Redemption.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. He’s all for searching redemption, knows what it feels like to want it – crave it, need it in order to feel like a human being again. But to get it from the dead… “How is that going for you so far?”

Barnes takes it as the joke it’s meant to be, lips curling up into a grin at the crude joke despite the serious situation. He turns his eyes to Tony, a strange combination of mirth and resignation in their depths. “The dead don’t talk apparently.”

Tony can’t help but huff, strangely appreciative of Barnes’ dark sense of humor. It’s an art to say something at a certain time and for it to be funny instead of tasteless and it speaks volumes about Barnes’ personality.

“It’s a good thing that they don’t. I, personally, wouldn’t want to hear what they have to say.” Tony says it easily but the thought of his father being able to voice his opinion on his only son makes him want to turn away and leave the cemetery. To shake the thought off he instead turns to Barnes and points out: “The living do talk, though.”

For not only does Tony understand the feeling of wanting redemption, he also vividly remembers the desperation to get it – no matter whether the subject of his guilt agrees with him or not.

Barnes snaps his eyes away from Tony, turning to the trees behind the grave and all softness and sense of humor disappears from his visage making way for hard lines and dark, angry eyes. “I know.”

“Then why not come to me instead?” Tony pushes, because he knows that if it’s redemption Barnes seeks from him – from the Stark family – that he can give it. 

“Because I don’t want to hear that you’ve forgiven me.” Barnes’ voice is soft, raw and hoarse and laced with self-loathing. His shaking hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans and he pushes the gravel at his feet around with the noses of his combat boots. 

Fear, insecurity and guilt.

Tony has to tear his eyes away from Barnes’ frame. He closes his eyes and sees a badly lit hallway, a woman with a picture of her dead son in her hands and loathing in her eyes.

“Okay,” he mumbles in reply, dejected and sad but he doesn’t add anything else.

Redemption he can give.

Guilt, however, he can merely understand.

\---

After their meeting at the graveyard, Tony hasn’t seen Barnes again. He’s happy with that because he doesn’t have an idea how to deal with the man. He doesn’t know what’s expected of him and thus he doesn’t know what to do. He adapts to people’s expectations yet if he doesn’t know what those are…

He has, however, seen Steve. Has gone through lunches, dinners and meetings. Heard a thousand apologies, forgive-me’s and ‘how can I make it up to you’s’ that at one point he snaps.

He throws his spoon into his couscous-falafel salad like a kid with a hissy-fit and gives Steve a pointed glare. “Enough!” He starts, lowering his voice at Steve’s shocked look at the restaurant’s sudden murmur. “Enough, Steve. Stop apologizing for fuck’s sake and just accept it.”

There’s desperation in Steve’s eyes as he waves a hand at Tony. “But what you did…”

Tony sighs, rubs two fingers over his temple and gives Steve a pointed and frustrated look. “I did because I could.” He states. “I am an influential man, Steve. Privileged in a way that if I say jump almost the whole world asks how high. The Accords, sure they affected you. But also me and so many more. If I didn’t change them, it would make me a bad person because if there’s anyone in our superhero-clique that has the power to influence decisions like that it’s me. It’s not out of the goodness of my heart but something I had to do.” He explains, wondering if Steve even understands the modern concept of privilege.

The frown on Steve’s face, thoughtful yet understanding, indicates that he does at least get what Tony is saying. “But the charges…” He then tries.

Tony can’t help but smirk. “You wouldn’t have been able to do that by yourself. And yes, it was a privilege thing but also…” He trails off then. Thinks for a moment why he has even started the sentence and then wonders how to finish it.

He’s not out to make Steve feel better. But he does want to make the other understand, if only to have him shut up… “I had to forgive myself. This was the only way I could do that knowing I fixed what I’d caused.”

Steve sits silent for a moment. Watches Tony but isn’t really seeing him, lost in thought. Then, voice small and fingers fidgeting with the napkin on the table, he asks: “But how do I forgive myself?”

Tony doesn’t have a reply.

\---

A month after the return of Captain America and his loyal sidekick – Barnes of course while the media forgets about Wilson completely – there is a gala thrown in their honor.

Everyone that means something is invited and everyone that thinks they mean something bribes enough people to eventually get invited.

 

Tony is taking the room like a pro. A master at mingling with people he’d rather not see again.

He talks when he needs to, laughs when he needs to and always has a non-alcoholic drink ready to sip when he just shouldn’t do anything.

He sees the others around the room. Steve and Sam in one corner with a group of veterans, Natasha chatting almost comfortably with Coulson and Barnes is stuck at the bar with none other than Christine Everhart.

For a moment Tony pauses, stands in-between the crowd and lets his eyes rest on Barnes. He looks tense, body angled towards Christine in a seemingly relaxed manner but Tony has faked confident enough to recognize a good acting-job. It’s in the shoulders that are a tad too tense, feet planted too firmly onto the ground and a drink that’s not being drunk.

As if he feels a pair of eyes on him - which surely is the case – Barnes tilts his head and lets his eyes glide through the room until they lock with Tony’s.

For the second time Tony feels almost lost looking in Barnes’ eyes. They’re not open like Steve’s but he recognizes more in the guarded look from Barnes. Again he has the sinking feeling that this is how he’s felt. He’s been at this point, sometimes feels he’s still there.

Eyes that scream _help me_ and _stay the fuck away_ at the same time.

But Tony is Tony and Barnes is not his friend so when he hears Pepper call his name he’s quick to break eye contact in favor of joining Pepper.

He’s convinced the look in Barnes’ eyes is relief.

 

It's an hour later that Tony walks into the Men's room to find Barnes there too.

The man is leaning heavily against the sink, fingers tight around the edges and head bent down. His hair, previously combed back now hangs like a curtain over his face, hiding what Tony is convinced is an anguished expression.

He's proven right Barnes turns his head to glare at the intruder. When he sees it's Tony, he seems to deflate a bit. He sighs, his shoulders drop and he turns to the mirror, watching himself with a grimace.

Tony hesitates for a moment, considers leaving because there is no predicting how a defensive ex-assassin is going to react to him intruding on an emotional moment.

Before he can decide, however, Barnes' soft whisper reaches him.

“How do you do it.” Barnes’ voice breaks twice as he speaks and he refuses to look at Tony but the haunted gaze in those blue eyes shows Tony that Barnes did speak.

A flash of cold washes over Tony, quick yet ruthless and finding feelings – nervousness, insecurity, _panic_ – that he hoped tonight of all times he wouldn’t have to deal with. But the mere thought of having to explain to someone who mentally is in a worse state than Tony how he only _looks_ like he’s holding himself together is nerve-wrecking.

But Barnes is so caught up in his own mind that he doesn’t notice Tony’s sudden distress. Doesn’t see hands clenched into fists even though he himself does exactly the same thing. But his eyes aren’t directed at Tony. Instead, he’s staring at himself in the mirror with anguish in his eyes and anger in his tightly pressed together lips.

“He…” Barnes swallows, hands clenching the sink so tightly Tony is afraid he’ll break it and his voice is an anguished whisper as he continues: “I watched you.”

Tony feels his heart clench at the stumble of words, at the tone they’re uttered with and at the way Barnes looks like he just wants to be dead.

He knows all too well how it feels, to blame yourself for something you aren’t responsible for. To look at yourself in the mirror and hate what you see, who you are because there should’ve been something you could’ve done. To close your eyes and think of all the people whose bloods is on your hands.

And Barnes is infinitely more innocent regarding his actions than Tony has ever been.

He’s kind enough not to mention anything about Barnes’ innocence, though. Knows an empty sentence of consoling words won’t change a thing.

It’s not his battle to fight.

“Of course you did. I would’ve been offended if HYDRA hadn’t considered me a threat.” The smile Tony musters to his lips looks forced and the casual words are belied by the shaky tremor in his voice.

When Barnes’ lips curl upwards just slightly Tony can’t help but feel a moment of triumph. The slight humor is, however, quickly replaced by a contemplative expression.

“I read about you. What you’ve been through.” It’s uttered softly and with caution, Barnes’ eyes finally turning to Tony with apprehension like he’s considering if he’s crossed an invisible line or not.

The sense of betrayal curling in Tony’s gut is a mean thing, unfair because he’s done the same and read Barnes’ file.

“Quite the read, isn’t it?”

“How do you go out there and talk to people? How do you not want to tear out your own skin after what they did?” Barnes pauses, breathing harshly through his nose and his fingers twitch almost uncontrollably like he’s ready to punch something. “How did you move on?”

For a moment Tony feels a lot like laughing in the hysterical, I’m-going-mad kind of way. The question is absolutely ridiculous even though Barnes has no idea. But Tony does. Is trying to be amused because if he isn’t he might end up crying.

How did he move on, the man asks.

If he were another person, a better one perhaps, he would’ve lied. Told Barnes to see a psychiatrist, take some anti-depressants and all fine give or take a few years.

But he isn’t any different – or better – than this.

Besides, how much would a lie help anyway?

So he goes for the painful truth. “If you think for one second that I’ve moved on you’ve been watching me at all the right moments, Barnes.”

It’s perhaps a testament to Barnes’ shock at the blatant honest answer that Tony sees his eyes – those impossible ice-blue eyes – widen and actually hears the intake of breath. Yet perhaps is Barnes’ disappointment, eyes dropping to the floor with a heart-breaking resignation and sadness curving his lips.

It almost breaks Tony’s heart, makes him want to take the words back because he knows so well what it feels like. And it’s devastating to now see it so openly on another. How he recognizes far more of Barnes’ emotions than he’d ever thought possible.

“It gets easier.” He finds himself saying. And when he catches Barnes’ hopeful glance, he doesn’t stop himself from continuing. “I don’t think it ever goes away because you’re not you anymore. But it gets easier and you get used to it. Learn how to deal.”

Barnes’ complete stance changes at the words of advice. His shoulders lose some of the tension, his hands unclench and the relief and appreciation is clear on his face.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, half-smile on his lips but it’s gone as soon as it came. He tenses up again, eyes panicked as they rest on Tony and there is a hysterical edge to his voice as he blurts: “Why are you doing this? I don’t deserve this.”

Of course Barnes suddenly seems to realize who he’s talking to. Of course he decided that he doesn’t even deserves to be talking to Tony. The graveyard comes to mind, Barnes saying he doesn’t deserve to be forgiven by the man whose parents he killed.

Tony resists the urge to sigh, because he’s not that much of a drama-queen. He does, however, raise an eyebrow at Barnes. “You don’t deserve honesty?” He points out. “And I can even ask someone at the office to write you an invoice, if it makes you feel better. Not sure if you can afford me, though.”

Barnes seems to decide to give in, let the matter drop because instead of arguing, he smirks. “Quite certain I can. Apparently a ninety year old war hero’s back-pay is very impressive.”

Tony can’t help but laugh, some of the tension in his own body releasing. “Good. Now move aside, Barnes. Someone spilled their Mojito and my hands are sticky in a very un-sexy way.”

“Dunno, Doll, some sticky fingers don’t make that suit look any worse on you.”

There is definitely surprise in Tony’s cackle of laughter and he has to admit that yes, he likes Barnes. Self-loathing with a cocky attitude and a hint of flirtation, he almost wonders why it took Steve so long to warm up to _him_ with a best friend like Barnes.

\---

When two weeks later Tony nearly has a panic attack when Steve hesitantly asks what exactly Tony saw through the wormhole, he decides that perhaps his "it gets easier" is not actually getting any easier. That perhaps he has, in a way, lied to Barnes. Or at least not told him the entire truth.

Because it would get easier, if only he would let it.

So it's after that nearly-panic-attack over hot-dogs in Central Park that Tony thinks that he should visit his shrink again. For a few months in a row. Until he can at least honestly say that it does get better.

The next day as he is on his way to Dr. Bauer, however, he is severely doubting his decision.

It would, perhaps, make headlines. Tony Stark too afraid to talk.

But at the thought of sitting in that office – that’s supposed to be calming but never really is – and talking makes his hands shake. 

When he walks into the practice’s waiting room he is greeted by a timid “hi”. He looks up, frozen in place because first of all, no-one should be here damn it! But also, the voice sounds way too familiar to be comfortable. And when his eyes land on no-one other than a pale, nervous Barnes seated in an cream, leather chair next to a freaking Ficus growing out of a Buddha-head, it’s a miracle Tony doesn’t faint.


	5. Serendipity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this. It has been an intense fic to write but I enjoyed every moment of it and I hope everyone loves it as much as I do!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think <3

__**SERENDIPITY – noun**  
[ser-uh n-dip-i-tee]  
1\. an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident.  
2\. good fortune; luck: 

 

Tony doesn’t know what to do with himself so he ends up standing in front of the coffee machine and just staring at it. 

When asked, he’ll say he’s thinking about all the modifications he can do to it to make it better but in truth, he’s trying very hard to ignore the fact that James fucking Barnes is sitting in the waiting room of his psychologist.

It’s the best practice in the State and of course Barnes would go here. And it’s true that when Tony demanded an appointment yesterday the receptionist started with a “but” that he quickly shut up with an “I don’t care, make it happen”. Perhaps not his finest moment and surely, this must be some sort of Karma.

“The coffee is crap.”

Tony startles out of his reverie and turns, blinking at the man that’s now looking at him with an amused expression. “What?” He manages.

Barnes smirks and leans his head to the side – nothing at all like the man he’d encountered in the bathroom just a few weeks ago. “The coffee is crap. In case you wanted to try it.”

The second time around the words register and Tony huffs. “I’ve been here before.” He counters and really? When did the amount of time he’s been to the psychologist become a contest?

Barnes’ look changes. It goes from something amused to something understanding. Like he sees straight through Tony, sees all his insecurities. It’s something you can only do when you know what you’re looking it, what the other is feeling.

The look, it scares the shit out of Tony.

He’s never had someone understand, not really. But if anyone can, it’s Barnes.

“Sit down, Stark.” Barnes says with a soft tone and a noncommittal wave to the chair next to him. 

For a moment Tony feels offended at being treated like a skittish kitten. Because that's what Barnes is doing. He's being careful and almost calming in a way while Tony is close to freaking out. And all that because Barnes' presence is unexpected.

But having Barnes here is confrontational for Tony. Makes him feel somewhat like a whiny little kid. For how bad can his experiences really be compared to what Barnes has gone through?

It's a dangerous thought and even though he wouldn't have had it if the man hadn't been there, it is still somewhat of a relief to sit next to Barnes and bitch about bad coffee.

 

Later, though, when Tony is on his way out and runs into Barnes at the reception desk it's as if their roles are reversed. 

Tony feels a sense of relief after talking with Dr. Bauer. The woman is incredibly good at what she does and even after only an hour she has Tony starting to believe that given a bit of time it will all be all right.

Barnes, however, looks like a hot mess. He's paler than before, voice a mere whisper as he converses with Linda the receptionist and his shoulders are hunched. 

Tony is certain confrontational would be a good word to describe Barnes' appointment. 

It's probably pity that makes Tony open his big mouth to offer: "Need a ride home?"

Barnes turns slowly and doesn't try to hide his surprise.

If he's completely honest, Tony is quite surprised with himself as well. But that doesn't make him take back the words. It feels wrong to let Barnes take the subway to Brooklyn now.

There is a flicker of doubt in Barnes' eyes before he nods. 

 

When they go outside, Happy is already waiting. 

They don't talk during the ride, Barnes whispering a thank-you as he excites the car at Steve and his shared apartment.

But Tony can't help but feel like they've learned a lot about each other despite the fact no words have been spoken. The silence between them has said enough. Tony, who doesn’t ask and Barnes who doesn’t try to hide his shaking hand. 

And in the moment when their eyes catch – Barnes from the doorway of his flat and Tony from the backseat of the car – they are closer to one another than they have been to any human being in a long time.

\---

Tony doesn’t see Barnes for a while after that.

He goes to Dr. Bauer, talks and listens and when one evening over take-out and Star Trek Rhodey smiles and says Tony looks better, he believes his friend.

He does, however, think of Barnes.

When entering the waiting room on his way to his appointment, he always expects to see the other. He isn’t yet sure if it is a relief or a disappointment when the other isn’t there.

When, however, he runs into Barnes one sunny November afternoon as they’re both at the front desk to schedule their appointment he realizes it isn’t disappointment he feels. 

It’s grounding, in a way, to see Barnes there. Someone to share in his suffering and struggle to get where he once was. A reminder, perhaps, he’s going through this. To show Barnes that it does get easier. Perhaps it’s selfish, but Tony wants to do well so Barnes has an example.

And if Tony is honest, considering how much Steve is still struggling with his own guilt, in a very messed up way he’s probably a better role-model than Captain America at this moment.

 

They’re on their way out when Barnes finally speaks.

“I never got to thank you for that ride.” Casual words, casual smile but the weight of the words is heavy, the sincerity in them obvious.

Tony allows a flicker of a smile before he sticks his hands into his pockets with a shrug. “No thanks needed.”

For a moment it seems Barnes wants to argue but instead there are completely different words that tumble out of his mouth. “How about a cup of coffee instead, then?”

Barnes looks as shocked as Tony feels at the words. But they’re spoken now and taking them back would be rude.

So the decision is up to Tony. Does he lie and claim he has an appointment or does he accept the offer for coffee with Barnes?

The thought of sharing a coffee with this man is as intriguing as it is terrifying. 

Never one to back down from any sort of challenge, it’s only natural that Tony goes: “Sure, why not?”

\---

Tony gets an Americano with a few extra espresso shots while Barnes goes for a caramel latte macchiato, shrugging when Tony gives him a judgmental eyebrow raise.

“Best thing since sliced bread.” He shrugs and smirks as he takes a sip of his whipped-cream topped not-coffee.

Tony huffs in indignation, muttering about an offense to coffee but can’t deny that a macchiato and a smirk is a good look on Barnes.

 

They decide to take a walk – or rather, Tony does as he’s sure Barnes would’ve loved to stay in the coffee shop, back to the wall with a perfect view of the street. But the sun is out and Tony has been in his workshop long enough he wants to actually enjoy it.

Which is what he tells Barnes, who seems uncomfortable before he agrees.

As they’re walking through the park, Tony feels absolutely in his element. Coffee, sun and a stroll never fail to lift his mood.

Barnes, however, is a nervous mess and trying hard – or perhaps not really – not to show it. He’s jumpy in the way only an uncomfortable assassin can be with eyes darting everywhere without lingering and shoulders tight, ready to fight if necessary. 

It’s not healthy, Tony thinks. Both mentally and physically because damn Barnes’ shoulders must hurt. So, in a half-assed attempt to soothe Barnes and because Tony really doesn’t handle uncomfortable silences all that well, he asks: “So, have you seen Star Wars yet? Cause there’s a new one coming out at the end of the year, well sort of… anyway, I need to know before I’ll spoiler the hell out of it for you.”

It’s perhaps blurting more than actually speaking. But he takes a happy sip of his coffee afterwards.

Barnes blinks in confusion, caught off-guard by the question. Then, though, he smirks and in a scarily good low voice grunts: “No, _I_ am your father.”

Tony cackles so loudly he nearly drops his drink and several people in the park watch them curiously.

Tony, though, is too amused and giddy at both the perfect imitation as well as the newfound knowledge to care. “I’ll take that as the most perfect yes I’ve ever heard.” 

Barnes smirks, taking a sip of his drink. Then an idea seems to come over him and there is barely contained excitement in his voice as he asks: “Could you build something from the movies?”

It’s in that moment that Tony sees that apparently, Barnes and him are more similar than he’d thought. Or, at east, there are things they have in common which he isn’t sure why but he’d never really expected that. No matter how much their personalities might overlap sometimes.

It’s an unexpected yet kind of nice revelation, though, and Tony slaps Barnes on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Oh, you have no idea.”

And thus starts an hour long conversation about the various bots Tony has built modeled after SW characters and the racer pod he’d once built and – much to his father’s dismay, but he leaves out that detail – drove into the garage door.

Tony loves talking and Barnes loves listening and when they’re hungry they get hot dogs.

A hot dog which Barnes nearly chokes on at Tony’s far-from-impressive Vader imitation.

Later, when he’s on his way home with a light heart and a small smile on his lips Tony’s first thought is that Barnes has a beautiful smile.

\---

Tony is in the middle of a discussion about solar-powered water purifiers – blue holograms of designs on one side and a video of Bruce Banner sitting in a little hut in Kenya on the other side – when FRIDAY interrupts him in the middle of a sentence.

“Sir, Mr. Barnes is requesting to see you.”

Tony freezes for a moment, then drops his arms – previously swinging animatedly in the air – to his sides with surprise clearly on his face. He’s as delighted as he is puzzled, to be honest, and has a sinking feeling in his gut that this isn’t going to be about planning a Star Wars marathon.

“Why?”

While FRIDAY is relaying the message, Bruce puts down his own stack of papers and gives Tony a worried look. “I didn’t know you were close to Barnes.”

Tony tries hard not to smile. Even halfway across the world his friend is still worried about him.

He still remembers the first time he’d received a call from an unknown number, having FRIDAY tell him it came from Kenia and finding none other than a worse-for-wear Bruce Banner appearing on the other side of the video feed. He’d smiled ruefully, the joke “I go to Africa for a year and all Hell breaks loose” falling painfully flat. But Bruce, smart and logical Bruce, had agreed with Tony. Perhaps he hadn’t agreed with the method, but then again even Tony didn’t. But he agreed, was even turning slightly green at the edges as the full story tumbled from Tony’s mouth.

Now, they keep in touch – or rather, Bruce calls when he can which is about once a week. And as Tony knows he’s the only one from the ex-Avengers that Bruce keeps in contact with he makes sure that whenever Bruce calls, the workshop is in lockdown-mode.

Hence the reason why FRIDAY announces Barnes’ presence rather than allowing him to do so himself.

Hence the reason why Bruce is looking at him with a frown that indicates his friend is wondering if he should go back to the States if only to make sure Tony doesn’t do stupid things.

“I’m not. We go to the same psychologist, that’s all.” He says eventually with a wave in the air.

Bruce looks like he wants to tell Tony to stop pretending he’s stupid. Then, though, he sighs. “I know I don’t have any right sitting here at the other end of the world but… just be careful. The guy isn’t exactly stable.”

Tony grimaces. “Neither am I.”

Before Bruce can reply, FRIDAY cuts in: “Mr. Barnes says he wishes to speak about a rather personal topic. Shall I inform him you will meet him at the top floor?”

Despite the bad feeling Tony has regarding Barnes’ visit he still tells FRIDAY to go ahead and let Barnes up. It is, after all, common curtesy to at least see someone when they come visit you.

Not only that, he’s also curious. Wants to find out why the other is here, perhaps get to know him a bit better and explore these feelings he’s started having.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” He turns back to Bruce. “I know what I’m doing, Brucey. I’ve spoken with him before and he’s… he’s a good man, underneath it all.”

Bruce huffs. “Let’s just hope he’s not going to turn out like the other good man we thought we knew.” He looks pissed off, annoyed like he does every time when he mentions Steve nowadays. “Either way, I’ll let you go up to your guest.”

 

When Tony steps out of the elevator and into the penthouse, Barnes is standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over New York City.

“Impressive view.”

Tony comes to stand next to Barnes and grins. “You should see it at night.”

Barnes laughs and raises an suggestive eyebrow at Tony. “Is that an invitation?”

Tony smirks and has to keep himself from returning a flirtatious comment. He wants to – oh he does because he’s certain flirting with Barnes is fun and exciting – but with the heavy gut-feeling he currently has he hardly thinks it’s the appropriate time. “That depends on what you came here for but I guess it’s not a Star Wars marathon.”

For a moment it seems as if Barnes hesitates, like he’s steeling himself for the conversation to come. Then he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looks out of the window again. “I spoke with my psychologist yesterday about my progress.”

Tony clenches one of his hands into a fist, taking a small breath and refrains from saying anything at all.

He doesn’t like where this seems to be going.

“He says it’s going well.” Barnes admits softly.

Tony feels a small smile tug at his lips, happy for Barnes because the man deserves this – deserves to feel happy.

But then Barnes lowers his eyes, looks hesitant and he nervously bites his lips. “But I’ve reached a stand-still. There is… he said there is something I need to do before I can continue to…”

Tony holds his breath, a cold falling over him even though the palms of his hands feel sweaty. He remembers their first conversation in front of his parents’ grave. What at that point Barnes couldn’t ask.

He thought, back then, that if Barnes were to ask he’d easily say the words. He’s already said them in court, proven them through his actions both before and after Barnes’ return to the States. But now in the face of receiving the question from the person himself, he finds himself scared.

Scared because it makes him realize that while he’s been saying he has forgiven Barnes, he’s not so certain that he actually has. He’s come to terms with what happened, what the other did. But to say he has truly forgiven Barnes, he has not.

He knows that all it takes is for him to say the words.

And when he looks at Barnes, who is looking hesitant and insecure yet still has his eyes on Tony, he knows he’s ready.

Perhaps they both need this to continue.

It’s an awkward moment between them, where Tony doesn’t want to tell Barnes to beg and where Barnes probably doesn’t know quite what to say.

Then, Barnes takes a deep breath. “Tony,” he starts, voice actually firm before he falters completely.

Tony has to admit his heart skips a beat at the way his name was just uttered. The sound of it in Barnes’ voice, the tone, it makes him wish he could hear it more often in moments not as emotionally charged as this.

Barnes, however, seems far from happy with what he just said for he panics slightly, speaking in a rush with widened eyes: “If you don’t mind. Me calling you Tony, that is. It’s just that… Stark sounds just –”

“It’s fine,” Tony interrupts, stopping the awkward stream of words. After a moment of hesitation, he allows a tiny smile on his lips as he finishes: “James.”

James looks relieved and flustered before he regroups and starts again: “Tony, I know I’ve wronged you. Especially in Ukraine. Or well, also in Vienna and Leipzig and… Siberia. All of it was me. I can’t blame HYDRA for that. I chose to attack you, to put a gun against your head and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, every day that when I had the chance to choose, that is what I chose. You’re a good man and you didn’t deserve that.” For a moment, James pauses, swallowing heavily.

In that moment, Tony does the same, chocking up and not knowing how to handle it in front of James, who despite everything is keeping it together quite impressively.

“You also didn’t deserve to have your parents killed. To grow up an orphan. And I hope you can forgive me for that. And also for the choices I’ve made.” James’ voice is soft when he finally stops, yet heavy with emotion and there is the barest glimmer of tears in his eyes.

Tony can only stare at James. This man who owes him nothing, who was not his friend before all of this and who shouldn’t feel responsible for these things because he really isn’t.

But James Buchanan Barnes stands in front of Tony nonetheless, guilt on his face and heartbreak in his eyes as he gives the most painful and caring apology. It’s more than Tony ever expected, more than he’s heard from any of his friends and it breaks him a little bit inside – this time, though, it’s in a good way.

 _This man_ , he thinks, _oh god this man._

Without thinking if it’s a good idea, if perhaps James isn’t that stable yet, Tony steps forward and evolves James in a hug.

He feels the other stiffen as his arms slide around his waist, palms resting against James’ back.

But after a moment James gets his flight-or-fight instinct under control and he relaxes.

And when Tony takes this opportunity to press his face against James’ shoulder to hide the tears in his eyes, mumbling “thank you, thank you,” James lifts his arms to return the hug.

A chocked laugh escapes James as they stand in their embrace. “I should be thanking you.”

“No,” Tony says, shaking his head. “No, it’s okay. I forgive you.” The words feel liberating, lifting a weight off of Tony that he didn’t know he was carrying and he has to stop himself from grinning.

James pulls back from the hug, eyes wide and it looks like surprise on his face. Like the hug didn’t scream forgiveness. But hearing the words, tension seems to drench from him. Worry falls away like snow melts in the sun in Spring and he smiles in a heart-breaking beautiful way. “I… I never thought,”

“That I would forgive you?” Tony asks, softly and gently with a small smile. He knows that feeling all too well.

“No, that it would feel this good.” James whispers and his eyes shine with happiness, with gratefulness and so much more when he looks at Tony. He reaches out his arms and draws Tony into them and caught in their embrace, in the intimacy of the situation they lose track of time for a while.

\---

Tony is watching his left-over Tikka Marsala heat in the microwave when his phone goes off.

He frowns, there’s hardly anyone that calls him nowadays and it can’t be Rhodey because they just talked. 

When he checks the screen, he sees it’s James. Which is strange. They’ve exchanged numbers after their heart-to-heart saying they should do a movie marathon but that’s now a week ago and neither of them has called the other. Tony pretends he’s been busy but he’s just been hesitant. James has become important to him in a very short time and he’s not sure how to deal with it, whether the other returns the sentiment or merely considers Tony when dealing with his mental issues.

So it’s with a frown that Tony answers on the sixth ring. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” Is immediately babbled down the line, voice a bit higher than he’s used from James’ low rumble and there is definitely panic lingering in the tone. “It’s just, there are… that is,” James continues, voice trembling slightly now and he breaks off abruptly.

Tony grimaces, knows what James is experiencing and his heart bleeds for the other. “James,” he starts, voice certain yet gentle. “Where are you?”

James hesitates and then sighs harshly. “I… some supermarket. I don’t know.”

“Is there someone else you can call?” Tony asks, someone who is closer. Someone who might actually know where you are, that knows how to deal with this.

_Steve_

James lets out a near-hysterical laugh. “As if he can do anything but be disappointed in me.”

Tony feels his heart sink at the words. It’s like he’s standing in front of a mirror, watching himself struggle.

But it’s not himself, it’s James and he itches to find out where the other is, go there and make sure he’s all right. It’s perhaps not the best thing he can do considering he’s hardly in the best mental place himself but he can’t not go. James called him, of all people in the world somehow the other man has decided in his moment of panic that Tony is his go-to person.

And to Tony, that’s huge. He’s never been that person someone goes to in need. He’s never been the one someone thought of in their time of hardship and to have James call him now… he just wants to gather the other in his arms and never let go. Have him come live in the Tower so he can keep an eye out on the man, spend time with him and make sure he never gets hurt again.

And if that comes frighteningly close to love, well, then Tony can’t find it in himself to mind.

“Okay, I think he’ll be fine with this breach of privacy…” He mumbles to himself. “FRIDAY?”

“Running Mr. Barnes’ location now, Sir.”

Tony feels a sense of relief wash over him and tells James: “I’m on my way, okay?”

 

Fifteen minutes and at least a dozen broken traffic laws later, Tony arrives at the supermarket.

He finds James standing in the middle of the cereal aisle, box of Kellogg’s Cornflakes in one hand and a forlorn look on his face as he lifelessly stares at the Pokémon themed Rice Crispies.

“James?”

The eyes that turn to Tony are haunted, the carton box in James’ hand clenched so tightly it’s a miracle it hasn’t completely broken yet. When James sees Tony, however, some of the tension seems to leave his body. His shoulders slump, a weak, sad smile tugs at his lips and he sighs warily. “We had maybe forty different kinds of cereal when I was a kid which was… huge.” He swallows. “Now you have forty brands and enough cereal to feed an army.”

Tony has to admit he feels relieved that James isn’t actually in the middle of a panic attack. Because while he came out here for James – and for himself, too – driving through the city he got very afraid, because what if he screwed this up?

But he hasn’t and he allows himself to relax. “Hey, what can I say. A good American loves its breakfast cereal and we got carried away a little bit.”

James huffs and waves his metal hand in the air. “There are some vegan chocolate cheerios over there.”

Tony chuckles. “Okay, maybe we got carried away a lot.”

“You think?” There’s a ghost of a smile on James’ lips and he looks more like himself instead of a haunted version of himself.

It makes Tony want to step over and hug the other – perhaps press a kiss against the side of James’ head, too – and to prevent that from happening he asks: “So, want to grab a burger? Cause I was sort of just going to have dinner and I’m pretty hungry right about now.”

James nods with a small smile. “Yes. A burger would be great.”

They leave the basket in the cereal aisle and as they walk out Tony makes a mental note to have FRIDAY delete the security footage.

 

Tony waits until they’re seated in the diner, burgers ordered and half-liter strawberry milkshakes in front of them before asking: “Feeling better now?”

James lowers his eyes to the table, suddenly insecure and hesitant. “Yes. I just… I saw the Kellogg’s and my Ma used to buy them and, I don’t know, I panicked.” He explains, apologizes and Tony feels like an idiot for asking in the first place.

“It happens.” He says with a reassuring smile. And then, because when it comes to James he just can’t stop himself from stupidly sharing, he adds: “It took a year after… well, you know. It took a year before I could take a shower again without freaking out.”

“Yeah…” James mumbles but he doesn’t look so insecure anymore as he drinks his awfully pink milkshake through the baby-blue straw. He looks up at Tony and smiles gratefully around the straw. “But thanks for coming. You didn’t have to and –”

“I did.” Tony interrupts quickly, shoving down the thought that James looks way too cute like this in the face of their serious conversation. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

“You could’ve insisted I call Steve.” James mutters.

Tony huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You made it rather clear you thought he couldn’t help.” In fact, the words still make his heart bleed for James.

“I guess I knew you could.” James admits softly, swirling his straw through his half-finished milkshake with a small smile on his lips. “Or that at least seeing you would help.” It’s a whisper, but Tony hears it nonetheless.

He keeps himself from actually showing the giddy feeling on his face. It won’t do to grin like a besotted idiot at James right now, it’s hardly the appropriate time.

“Well of course, have you paid attention to my face at all? It is a very handsome one.” He jokes and wants to kick himself. Apparently it’s always time to be stupid.

James, though, seems to take it in stride and even winks at Tony. “Indeed. With worry lines and all.”

“What!”

Tony receives a chuckle in reply to his indignation. “Don’t worry, doll. They only make you look sexier.”

In an attempt to hide his blush – and really, Tony, you can do better than this! – Tony leans forward and sips his own milkshake.

Then, though, he blurts: “How is it we only end up flirting after almost-panic-attacks? Is it like a thank-God-we’re-alive kind of sex thing only with flirting?”

He might be eloquent when he’s in his suit – both his business one and his Iron Man one – but right now he’s just Tony in sweats, drinking a milkshake with a man who’s too sexy for his own good. Words, in moments like these, are not his strongest point.

James laughs, throaty and long and with wrinkles around his eyes. Then he gives Tony a smoldering look, a smirk on those awfully kissable lips. “I think I’d know if this was a sex thing.”

 

When they’ve devoured half their burgers and are emerged in a discussion about children’s cartoons, Tony still finds himself thinking of that laugh.

Even when he’s home later that night, he thinks of James and his laugh, his sense of humor and his vulnerability. He thinks about James with a smile on his lips, a fluttering and fondness in his heart and he knows that he’ll have to take action if he doesn’t want to lose this.

Which he doesn’t.

James is opportunity. After everything that’s happened – after Afghanistan, after Civil War, Pepper – James is a breath of fresh air. Someone who doesn’t have to fake smiles during his bad days and lie that “it’s okay, I understand”. Someone who gets why good moments are not just good, they are fantastic because he’s alive and he knows what it feels like to almost not be anymore. He already sees it now in their interactions, feels it when he looks at James – thinks of him – with a feeling that’s grown so big so fast.

He’s normally not one for declarations, of talk about feelings but he’s lost enough in his life already that he’s now reached the point he’ll do everything he can to not lose something – someone – important ever again.

\--- 

It’s at a fundraiser for the Maria Stark foundation that Steve asks Tony for a few moments of his time.

“Sure,” Tony says with a smile he hopes doesn’t show his nervousness. “Let’s go take a walk.”

As they make their way away from the party and to one of the galleries of the museum they’re in, Tony lets himself wonder what Steve wants to talk about. Ever since their lunch things have been different.

Not only does it seem like Steve is doing better, Tony is by now also completely besotted with Steve’s best friend.

“Thank you, for what you did to Bucky.” Steve breaks the silence, hands shoved into the pockets of his fitted black dress-pants and a grateful smile on his lips. “You mean a lot to him, you know.”

“What?” Tony’s eyes widen and he feels the heat of a small flush on his cheeks. Of course he knows James cares, but to hear it from Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “He goes out for cereal and comes back from burgers with you happier than I’ve seen him since before the war.” He waves a hand in the air and then sighs. “I was jealous at first.” He admits, lowering his eyes with an embarrassed look. “I mean we’re both trying but it’s hard. We’re both different and our friendship is…”

“It’s not what it used to be. You can’t expect that from him.” Tony points out sharply, a flash of anger in his gut that’s definitely directed at Steve.

Steve looks surprised at Tony’s reaction. “I know.” He’s quick to defend himself but then he deflates, shoulders hanging low and a sigh on his lips. “I’m trying. But in the meantime I’m happy that he has you.”

A smile flashes over Tony’s face and he fidgets with the edge of his suit. “I’m happy too.” Escapes him and really, can he be any cornier?

Steve looks amused, a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. “Oh really.” He mumbles and there’s a hint of teasing in his voice.

Before Tony can do or say something, however, Steve seems to lose his humor again and revert back to his melancholic mood. “He’s doing well, I see almost constant… improvement in him it’s amazing. And it made me think because I’m… well, I’m not making any progress now am I?” He sounds dejected and looks like a kicked puppy.

Tony weakly offers: “It’s different for everyone.”

He wonders, though, why it’s him that’s been promoted to designated psychologist but then again, he knows. James – at first, at least – and now Steve, they feel guilty and they try and show it by bearing themselves in front of Tony. Which really, he’s not sure exactly how much he appreciates…

Steve sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “In my time people didn’t have mental issues. You were either sick or you weren’t and if your leg ain’t broken you’re probably just crazy.” He states with a shrug, eyes on one of the many paintings so he doesn’t have to look at Tony. “When I came back SHIELD offered me psychologist sessions. Even Fury said I had to talk to someone.”

That’s when it dawns on Tony. Why Steve is still struggling so much. “You never saw someone.”

A humorless laugh passes Steve’s lips. “Turns out you can be sick nowadays without wearing a cast.”

“Well, we’re getting there.” Tony comments, knowing Steve with his newfound knowledge can’t possibly know about the current social stigma around mental health yet. “But I’m sure compared to before the war…”

“It has a name.” Steve blurts and his voice is filled with wonder. When he turns to Tony, there’s relief in his eyes. “Several names, even. All of it, I can go to someone and they will tell me what is wrong with me.”

It’s the happiest Tony has ever heard anyone speak about mental illness. It’s like Steve struck gold. But then again, Tony thinks, he probably has. And it’s not good that Steve over the past few years has disregarded everyone’s suggestions to seek help. That he’s let things come so far and has suffered longer than he really should have.

But it makes sense.

At least Steve is seeing someone now. It’s good, Tony thinks, that Steve has set the step. A huge difference between the forlorn question how Steve should forgive himself. It seems that now he’s on the way to do just that and Tony’s happy for the other. He doesn’t want to begrudge Steve some peace of mind.

“That’s good, Steve.” Tony gives the other a small smile.

“Well, it’s a start.” Steve shrugs and then his eyes dart into the direction of the party. “Well, I guess I’ll go back and…” He breaks off a bit awkwardly and then says: “Thanks, Tony. For everything.”

Tony is left standing in the hall, watching Steve go with a small frown.

Well at least he’s gotten that over with.

 

“So you’re happy too, huh.”

The low voiced, laced with amusement and curiosity, startles Tony.

He doesn’t jump or squeak but his heart does feel like he’s just lost a few years of his life. He turns to find James walking towards him from the corner Tony is sure he’ been lurking, listening to Steve and his conversation.

Tony watches with interest because James looks stunning in his black suit that hugs him perfectly in all the right places. He hadn’t been joking when he said he’d had money because the suit must’ve cost a small fortune. But Tony can definitely appreciate that.

When he finally does catch James’ eyes the other is smirking at him but Tony hardly cares at being caught staring. Instead, he teases: “Eavesdropping is considered rude nowadays, James.”

James shrugs – doesn’t make a secret of him taking in Tony’s looks with an appreciative glance as he stands in front of the other man. “I was gathering intelligence.”

Tony raise an eyebrow. “And what did you learn?”

For an inkling of a moment James seems to hesitate. Then he smiles, a bit aloof, and softly admits: “Well, there’s this guy I’ve been bothering a lot recently with my mental instability and he’s been so patient and kind in dealing with me that I ended up having a crush. Turns out, the guy probably feels the same way about me, too.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, leaning to the side a bit and raising an eyebrow at Tony. “So now I need an action plan. Any suggestions from your side?”

Tony’s heart skips a beat at the words and like he’s living in a romance novel, he feels like he’s floating on air. It’s true that teenagers have crushes, but if James and him both have it than it doesn’t matter. Then all that matters is that this bond – emotion, thing, opportunity – is there and they’re both willing to take it.

It makes Tony happier than he thinks he’s been in a long time.

“I would go for the direct approach and just kiss him.” He offers with a happy, besotted grin.

“You’re sure that’s not too much of a risk?” James furrows his brow, like he’s uncertain whether this is actually happening or not.

It’s the same as Tony feels, wondering if it’s real and if he is really this close to have this.

In the end, Tony decides to take his own advice.

He steps right into James’ personal space, slides a hand around the back of James’ neck until he can bury them in long strands of hair and then without a moment of hesitation he kisses James.

His stomach jumps in excitement and when James returns the kiss, their lips moving against each other in a slow, intimate kiss warmth floods Tony. His skin tingles where he’s touching James and where James is touching him, a hand around Tony’s waist and possessively pulling Tony closer to him.

Tony goes willingly, leaning against James as their kiss goes from soft and intimate to rough and needy. It’s harsh breaths through their noses, shared grunts as they rock against each other and the sounds that surround them as their tongues find each other are absolutely obscene.

It’s the best, most intense kiss Tony has had in ages and they’re both panting, leaning against each other when they finally pull away.

James squeezes his hands around Tony’s waist with a happy hum.

Tony meanwhile looks at James with a brilliant smile. “Some things are worth the risk.”


End file.
